Who'd Have Known
by inkytears
Summary: Blaine's insomnia leads to tea, cuddling, and a number of troubling thoughts.


**Author's Note: **The title comes from the song "Who'd Have Known" by Lily Allen, the first verse of which heavily inspired this fic!

* * *

When Cooper had asked his brother to move in with him at the end of his senior year, he certainly hadn't taken into account Blaine's crippling insomnia.

From the very first night, when Blaine had crawled from his own bed and into Cooper's at 4 o' clock in the morning, they'd tried everything. Doctors, pills, meditation, the works—and nothing seemed to help the fact that the younger Anderson couldn't sleep a wink before daylight. After weeks on end of what amounted up to little more than negative results, the two of them eventually gave up with their hands at their sides.

There were nights when Blaine would simply lie awake at night, his mind still whirling and his body aching with exhaustion, but he wouldn't resort to waking Cooper. He knew that his brother needed rest, perhaps even more than Blaine himself, so he would often take it upon himself to suffer in lengthy silence.

And then there nights where the fireflies whizzed well past their allotted time—when cicadas could be heard through two panes of glass, and the entire apartment radiated with heat—and Blaine simply couldn't take it anymore. He found himself sitting downstairs in the kitchen with his brother, a glass of tea in each man's hands.

"How's job hunting going?" Cooper reached for the newspaper as he stifled a yawn. The kitchen smelled of old coffee and forgotten milk runs, and the paper was at least two weeks old.

Blaine shrugged, his t-shirt so baggy that it caught on the edge of the table. "I talked to the guy down at the music store a few days ago. They're not hiring."

Cooper merely nodded, deciding that it wasn't in anyone's best interest to remind Blaine that there _were_, in fact, jobs that didn't center around instruments.

The conversation lulled then, the silence filled by the rustling of old news and those cranky old cicadas, before Blaine finally broke it.

"I'll keep looking," he said.

Cooper nodded once again. "Aright."

As he continued to flip through the comics section, Cooper felt his eyes give a slight flutter of exhaustion. He hadn't been sleeping well, mostly due to the fact that Blaine _never_ slept at all, and even on the nights when his brother didn't creep into his room on the hunt for company, anxiety over his sibling still kept Cooper awake. His hand trembled as he flipped past yet another page, a yawn bubbling through his lips. "You excited for college?" he asked out of the blue.

They had weeded through this conversation a hundred times. Blaine was only staying with Cooper for the three months prior to the next step in his education, at which point he would be off to University of Chicago. The topic was tired and worn, the responses always the same.

"Sure," Blaine said, almost robotically. "Should be fun."

Cooper felt his head move up and down on its own accord as he fixed his attention back to the newspaper. His eyes were beginning to water now, his yawns becoming more plentiful by the minute. Any longer and he would probably pass out on the table, but fortunately, though he may not have been the best actor, he was a pro at faking alertness.

"You still want me to help you move in?" he glanced up at Blaine with bloodshot eyes. "It's only a few weeks from now."

With a soft smile, Blaine said, "Yeah, thanks." He turned his attention back to the steaming cup of tea in his hands, then back up at Cooper to study his brother's face. Even as a member of his family, Blaine had to admit that the man was unfairly attractive—all dark hair with bright eyes, cheekbones that went on for miles and a strong, steady jaw. Even his nose was attractive, and his _lips_…

Blaine suddenly jerked up, his thoughts cut painfully short. When on earth had he begun thinking about Cooper's lips? Especially in such a strange way? Shaking his head briefly, Blaine looked up at his brother again, just in time to see Cooper's expression of total bewilderment at Blaine's sudden movement.

"You okay—" he began, but Blaine cut him off.

"You look tired, Coop. You should sleep."

Cooper opened his mouth, presumably to argue, then with a slump of his shoulders, he nodded. "Yeah, okay." Glancing across the table at Blaine, he asked, "You sure you'll be okay?"

With a grin that was more forced than anything, Blaine murmured a quiet confirmation as Cooper began to stand. His brother then began walking away, but not in the direction of his bedroom, which caused Blaine to frown.

"Coop," he said, pointing to his left. "Bedroom's this way."

Cooper gave a soft chuckle. "I know, Squirt. I'm tired, not batty." He jutted his finger in the direction of the hallway and explained, "Bathroom."

Feeling mightily stupid at that point, Blaine's lips fell into a silent 'O'. He watched as his brother shuffled off down the opposite hallway, then before he even knew what he was doing, stood up himself.

Truth be told, Blaine wasn't tired in the least, and spending the next few hours or so in a room of his own would be absolute torture—so rather than thinking things through, Blaine took a quick look around the kitchen, set down his mug of tea, and began creeping off in the direction of Cooper's bedroom.

The hallway suddenly felt very dark, indeed—and Blaine Anderson, a boy of 18 years and a lifetime's worth of experiences, suddenly felt very, very small. He slipped through Cooper's door with ease, and was relieved, though not surprised, to find that he had beat his brother to it.

As brothers, Blaine visited Cooper's room quite often. The cheap paintings that hung on the walls were familiar, as were the navy blue sheets and the half-empty hamper of dirty clothes. But something about being in his room when his brother _wasn't_ seemed strangely intimate, and Blaine felt a shiver climb the rungs of his spine.

He crossed the room with quiet footsteps, making his way to Cooper's dresser. On it were pictures—pictures of the two of them, of just Blaine himself, and empty frames where pictures of Cooper, Blaine, and Kurt all together had once sat before the two of them broke up. Without meaning to, Blaine reached down to pick up a picture of him and Cooper at Christmas just last year. There were Santa hats placed jauntily on their heads, presents surrounding them at odd angles and a bit of wrapping paper falling into Cooper's face, but the grins that overtook each of their expressions outshined it all.

Blaine looked at it for a long moment, an unfamiliar lurch etching its way into his stomach as he gazed upon his brother's 2D image, when all of a sudden, he heard sock-covered footsteps making their way down the hall.

Panicking, he scrambled to place the frame back on Cooper's dresser, and practically sprinted to the bed, throwing himself down on top of the covers in two seconds flat. Though he knew his brother probably wouldn't mind the fact that Blaine was lurking around his room, something about his earlier, decidedly inappropriate thoughts was making Blaine skittish.

He nestled his way into the covers as Cooper opened his door, and pretended to be asleep.

Though he had previously been humming quietly under his breath, Cooper gave a start as he walked into his room to find a figure already curled up on his bed—but just as he was about to rush out and warn Blaine of their intruder, he realized that it _was_ Blaine, and his stance relaxed significantly.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath as he closed the door behind him. His heart continued to hammer even as he walked over to his bed and placed a gentle hand on Blaine's shoulder in an effort to rouse him.

"Blaine," Cooper murmured. "_Blaine_." He gave the other man's shoulder a light shake, then sighed as he realized that it was no use, and his brother was out cold. Knowing how difficult it was for him to sleep in the first place, Cooper merely backed away slowly and turned to begin rummaging through his dresser for a set of pajamas.

Blaine, of course, was very much awake—but he didn't make any indication of it as Cooper tried to wake him. Instead, he closed his eyes even tighter and curled in on himself just a fraction more.

He didn't dare open his eyes to watch as Cooper shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it lazily in the direction of his hamper, nor did he witness his older brother stepping out of his jeans, and into a new pair of sweatpants. He _did_, however, feel every inch of his body go tense as Cooper crawled into bed without warning, and pressed his chest against Blaine's back like they did when they were children.

Cooper found his arm draping over Blaine's body on pure instinct, acting as a makeshift blanket as it was far too hot for the real thing. He felt his legs begin to mold against Blaine's, and even managed a small smile as he realized that his little bro was still the perfect size for spooning.

After shifting around a bit, Cooper eventually found the perfect position and settled forward, while Blaine simultaneously settled back. It was impossible to tell where one man's body ended and the other's began, with their torsos pressed so close and their legs tangled as they were, but neither seemed to mind. Cooper settled his nose into the area where Blaine's shoulder met his neck, and almost instantly, he was out like a light, the smell of Blaine's cologne inhabiting his dreams.

* * *

It was about an hour before Blaine finally allowed himself to move. Cooper's breathing had evened out, his arm falling slack, and as the younger Anderson wriggled out of Cooper's grasp, he was relieved to find that his sleeping brother took no notice.

But just as he was sitting up to leave, he paused for a moment.

Looking back at Cooper's sleeping form, Blaine felt his heart give an extra pulse. Sunlight was streaming in through the closed window now that it was more early morning than late night, and its rays were beginning to dapple Cooper's cheeks. His mouth was slightly open, a little puddle of drool hiding in the folds of the pillow, and his hair was notably tousled. The fact that his bare chest was rising and falling dramatically with each breath was also not lost on Blaine.

Had he been well rested, the shorter man never would have even considered what he was about to do—but seeing as Blaine was not well rested in the least, he didn't have the mental capacity to stop himself before reaching out and brushing the pad of his thumb against Cooper's lower lip. The moment seemed to drag on forever, Blaine's movements slow and precise, almost as if he were trying to map the curve of his brother's mouth for years to come. Before he knew it, Blaine was settling back into bed so that his face was once again level with Coopers. Though rather than facing away from him, his nose was now inches from his brother's, their breath mingling.

Blaine took the opportunity to study more of the other man's form. He dragged gentle fingers over what felt like every inch of available skin, from his temples to the jut of his cheekbones to Cooper's usually rock-hard abs, made soft with the presence of sleep. Blaine wondered if perhaps, deep down, his sibling could feel it, as goosebumps formed across Cooper's skin.

After a while, birds began to chirp and the sun grew in strength, and Blaine was plagued with the strangest sensation that he was running out of time.

So, going on absolute sleep deprivation and the notion that he would never again get an opportunity like this, Blaine suddenly leaned forward, drew in a breath, and caught his brother's lips in a gentle kiss.

Rather than staying unconscious, Cooper's eyes flew wide open.

Too shocked to move, he lay there stonily as Blaine kissed him a little more firmly, clearly unaware that the other man was awake in the first place—but as Blaine pulled away a moment later, an expression of serenity painting his features, he opened his own eyes to see Cooper's staring back at him, and gave a little yelp.

"C-Cooper!" Blaine stammered. He would have scrambled away, but his body was frozen with fear. "I didn't—you—I must've been asleep, or—"

His eyes grew impossibly wide as Cooper slowly began to smile. He had expected him to turn away in disgust, maybe vomit, or scold Blaine for being an absolute freak. The smile, however, caught him off-guard.

"Are you… okay…?" Blaine slowly began after his brother emitted a soft chuckle. He trailed off in confusion as Cooper's laughter became more intense—building and building until it was verging on full-on hysteria. It lasted only a few short minutes, and eventually, the sound died down to a quiet giggle, at which point Cooper forced his attention back to Blaine, only to find his brother staring at him with confusion in his eyes.

"C'mere," Cooper said with a smile. He held out his arms, presumably for Blaine to crawl into them, which he did a moment later.

"You're not mad?" Blaine asked once their bodies were settled together again. Cooper shook his head.

"No," he murmured, but didn't offer anything more on the subject—and deciding not to push his luck, Blaine didn't bring it up again. Perhaps this was how his brother dealt with trauma. Laughing it off, then deciding never to acknowledge the ordeal a few short moments later.

Unfortunately, their little cuddle session could only last a few minutes. Cooper went off to work, Blaine went off to _look_ for work, and they parted ways just like any other morning.

Both men allowed their days to proceed like normal, without any indication that they had kissed. Cooper texted Blaine asking if he would prefer Chinese or Italian for dinner, then ended up coming home with Mexican anyway. They ate with normal, dull conversation plaguing the air, then went about their normal and dull evenings. It was only late that night, when the two of them were sharing the bathroom to brush their teeth, that something changed.

"Hey, Blaine," Cooper said after spitting a glob of toothpaste into the sink. He shut off the water just as his brother turned to listen.

"I was thinking… Maybe we could share a bed tonight."


End file.
